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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27715697">Deck the Halls, Bruise Your Hand</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/searchingwardrobes/pseuds/searchingwardrobes'>searchingwardrobes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Once Upon a Time (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Captain Cobra - Freeform, Captain Hook | Killian Jones &amp; Prince Charming | David Nolan Friendship, Charming Family (Once Upon a Time), Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Humor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:54:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,094</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27715697</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/searchingwardrobes/pseuds/searchingwardrobes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Charming has slayed a dragon, Hook has sailed the stormy seas. How hard can Christmas lights be? </p>
<p>aka Emma's boys try to surprise her and things go awry, but she's beyond touched anyway.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>111</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Deck the Halls, Bruise Your Hand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>*I was inspired to write this by two things: #1 all the neighbors starting to put up their Christmas decorations, which always seems to happen the week of Thanksgiving (as for us, we just stick one of those spotlights in the yard that shine on your house and make it LOOK like you put up Christmas lights.) #2 listening to the Relient K Christmas album, which is where the title comes from. It's a fun Christmas album if you like punk rock (which I do). It has the only version of "The 12 Days of Christmas" that I don't despise. </p>
<p>*This takes place the Christmas after the season six finale.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So, um, do any of us know what we’re doing?” David asked as he, Killian, and Henry maneuvered the Jones’s tallest ladder out of the shed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I figured you would,” Killian answered in between grunts as they tilted the ladder against the front of the house. “You’re the one who was cursed to this realm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was in a coma!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t look at me,” Henry told them quickly, “Mom and I only ever lived in apartments and my other mom never decorated the mayor’s house. She said it was tacky.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well Emma thinks otherwise,” Killian said, shaking the ladder a bit to make sure it was steady. “She told me that as a child she would see all these houses lit up for Christmas. Sometimes she’d even see a dad outside on a ladder stringing up lights. She always associated a decorated house with family, and now that things are settled here in Storybrooke, and we have this house -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You want to give her that,” David finished for him, and the two men exchanged a soft and meaningful look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aye.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” Henry piped up, bringing levity to the moment, “you can learn how to do anything on Youtube.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulled out his phone and started to scroll while his grandpa and stepdad studied the boxes Killian had purchased. The latter sliced open a box with his hook and gingerly pulled out a string of clear lights.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess these are to hang the lights from the . . . gutter?” David asked as he examined a box of plastic clips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The roof line,” Henry supplied, “the guy on this video says </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>hang lights from the gutter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David craned his neck to take in the entire Victorian and whistled. “It’s gonna take awhile to cover this whole thing. It’s huge.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your house is the same size,” Killian retorted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t have a turret.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Says the man who lived in a castle back in the Enchanted Forest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Point taken,” David conceded, “although we never had to cover the castle in Christmas lights.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because you had no electricity,” Henry spoke up, still studying his phone, “or Christmas for that matter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David tilted his head as a thought occurred to him. “Emma mentioned dads specifically?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aye,” Killian said absently as he tried to untangle the first string of lights. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think we should put lights on the farmhouse then? We will be having all of you over on Christmas Eve.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t want to tell a man what to do with his own home,” Killian said, “I just honestly needed a bit of help on this project.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You mean you needed an extra hand?” David teased.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Killian met his father-in-law’s gaze with a cheeky grin. “Believe me, I can do plenty with just the one. Ask your daughter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gross, teenager present!” Henry cried out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that,” David muttered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To change the subject -” said Henry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please,” David replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you should have mom over to help you put the lights on. She told me once when I was missing dad that it was one of the things she always imagined kids did with their fathers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David smiled and gave a decisive nod. “I’ll do that then. By that time, we’ll be pros at this, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course we will,” Killian agreed. “I mean, we’ve fought dragons, sailed the stormy seas. How hard can stringing lights be?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>***************************************************</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Things at the sheriff’s station were so slow that Emma had actually dozed off at her desk. There were no calls, no dwarves in the holding cells, not even any paperwork. She was awakened from her impromptu nap by a stack of papers being plopped down on her desk right by her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mom!” she cried out, pressing a hand to her chest as soon as she saw who it was. “Don’t do that! We’ve only had peace in this town for eight months - my adrenaline is still on standby.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Snow apologized with a grimace, “Ava Zimmer was eager for a babysitting job, so she’s watching Neal. I thought I’d come by and try to get all this paperwork out of the way for the Miners Day Festival.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Miners Day?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, we have to block off some streets, redirect traffic, that sort of thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma rubbed at her head wearily, the thought already making her tired. She’d rather slay a dragon, honestly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We still have that festival?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well yeah, why not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because . . . it was based on a curse. None of it is actually true.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Snow shrugged. “I know, but it’s still fun, and the money goes to a good cause.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma sighed in resignation as she pulled the stack of paperwork closer. Then she paused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait. Ava Zimmer is babysitting? Where’s Dad?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t know? He’s with Killian and Henry. Doing what, I have no idea. They were being kind of secretive about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no,” Emma groaned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you worried? They’re probably Christmas shopping for us.” Snow grinned and waggled her eyes. “Maybe they’re heading to the jewelry store.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma arched both brows at her mother. She cared little for jewelry honestly, and she couldn’t believe Snow wasn’t concerned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously, Mom? Has anything good ever come from our boys scheming together? Even when it’s just two of them!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her mom’s eyes widened as she breathed out an “ohhhh,” and Emma knew she was thinking of destroyed mailboxes, potions that could have turned someone into a frog, and “borrowed” boats. Not to mention David, Killian, and Henry had all broken into more dungeons than any three people ever should. Or maybe that was just part of being a member of this crazy family. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe I should check on your dad . . . “ Snow said as she pulled out her phone. Before she could make the call, however, the scanner on Emma’s desk crackled to life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ambulance en route to 3814 Oxford St. Two injured adult males and one minor.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s our house!” Emma exclaimed as she jumped up from her chair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously, David?” Snow muttered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll drive so I can use the siren.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two women raced out the door, and jumped into the yellow Bug. Emma flew through the streets of Storybrooke towards her house, swearing under her breath. After all they’d been through, her boys better not have broken their necks doing something stupid . . . </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She screeched to a stop in front of her house behind an ambulance. Its lights flashed crazy patterns against the blue Victorian as Emma jumped out of the car. Her panic eased slightly when one of the paramedics approached with a sheepish smile on his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, Sheriff, we’re not carting him off to the morgue this time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s not the best joke, Harold.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The former black knight’s grin slipped quickly from his face. “Sorry, Sheriff.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“David!” Snow cried when she saw her husband on a stretcher being loaded into the open ambulance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, gorgeous!” David replied with a goofy smile and a dazed look in his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dad, are you okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don worry bout me,” he said, waving a hand jerkily. “Just took a </span>
  <em>
    <span>leetle </span>
  </em>
  <span>tumble.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma and her mother exchanged a look. Her father had clearly smacked himself in the head. The paramedic crouched down next to him and shone a light in his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He has a concussion, doesn’t he?” Snow asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m afraid so, your majesty,” the paramedic replied as he slipped the penlight back into his bag. “But I wouldn’t worry too much. They’re fairly common. They’ll just want to do scans at the hospital as a precaution and keep him overnight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Snow turned to her daughter. “I’ll ride with him. Call me about Henry and Killian?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure, Mom.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> The two embraced, with Emma promising to come by the hospital later. Then, as the ambulance pulled away, Emma whirled around and scanned the yard. Relief flooded her when she saw her husband and son sitting on the front steps. She dashed over to them, and when she got closer, she saw that Henry was cradling his right arm and Killian was holding his bloody hand close to his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my God, what happened?” Emma cried out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re fine, love, really,” Killian assured. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, they said only Grandpa needed to ride in the ambulance,” added Henry. “I just wrenched my arm a little trying to keep the ladder upright.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The ladder?” Emma asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aye, um . . . for the lights,” Killian supplied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The lights?” Emma’s gaze took in the string of lights wrapped around the pillars of the front porch. More lights adorned the windows . . . and the roof. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma’s anger dissipated as she remembered her conversation with Killian yesterday about watching Christmas lights going up all around when she was a little girl - for everyone but her. She sank down onto the steps between her two boys. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were trying to put lights on the house? For me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” Killian said, “you know I wish to give you your heart's desire, my love.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe I need to be a little more careful when I mention stuff like this to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But Mom,” Henry put in, “Killian’s right, you’ve always wanted this. Remember in New York when we put lights in the windows? You said you always wanted a house to put lights on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You remember that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course. That Christmas in New York was awesome - just the two of us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma smiled and mussed Henry’s hair. “It sure was, kid.” Then she frowned as she gingerly ran a finger over her son’s elbow. “What did you do to your arm, exactly?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A sprain maybe, or a torn muscle. The paramedic said you can just drive us to the hospital.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma frowned as she turned to her pirate. “And you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Killian gave her his best puppy dog eyes. “My hand is cut, Swan.” Then he arched a brow and his eyes turned from pouty to playful in a heartbeat. “Do you want to bandage it for me? Perhaps tie it with your teeth?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Killian!” Emma exclaimed. “Henry’s right here!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As the author I already know that story,” Henry grumbled, “unfortunately.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma let out a long sigh, then closed her eyes. She lifted her hand and waved it first over Henry’s arm and then over her husband’s hand. When she opened them, the blood was gone, and Henry was grinning as he moved his arm easily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cool, Mom, thanks!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Killian looked at her worriedly as he clenched and unclenched his fist. “Doesn’t magic come with a price?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m convinced that’s just something Rumplestiltskin made up so he could make shoddy deals with people,” Emma told him dryly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” Killian said as he stood up, “we didn’t quite finish, but would you like to do the honors, love?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He held his hand out to her as he gestured to the outdoor electrical outlet with his hook. Emma’s smile crinkled her face as she jumped up eagerly. She plugged in the extension cord and then stood back between her husband and son to admire the effect. Emma sighed happily to see their home lit up with thousands of clear white fairy lights. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If only that one strand wasn’t dangling there like spaghetti,” muttered Henry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your grandpa was right,” Killian sighed, “that turret was a beast.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I take it that’s when everything came crashing down?” Emma asked teasingly. “Literally?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The downcast looks on both her boys’ faces made Emma’s heart clench with overwhelming emotion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You forget who you’re dealing with,” Emma told them, and with a flick of her wrist, she finished the lights. Then she wriggled her hands, sparks danced between her fingers, and then she flung the magic at the house. The white lights turned to a multitude of colors, transforming their Victorian into a life size gingerbread house. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mom, that’s awesome!” cried Henry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma giggled. “I know some people think it's tacky, but all the lights when I was little were colored lights.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s perfect,” Killian told her, pulling her close to his side. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. His lips lingering against her hair, he told her, “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Jones.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma pulled back to smile broadly up at him. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Jones.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh,” Henry groaned, “you two just had a total Hallmark moment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I take it that’s a bad thing?” Killian asked in utter confusion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma wrapped both arms tightly around her husband. She went up on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I don’t care. After the year we’ve had, we deserve some cheesy.”</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And that last line is for all of us! After the train wreck that was 2020, I wish you all some cheesy happiness this holiday season!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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